


stand fast (or fall hard)

by alamorn



Category: The Traitor Baru Cormorant - Seth Dickinson
Genre: Hate Sex, M/M, Power Imbalance, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 02:33:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: Svir approached any meeting with the two of them with the same caution as a snow covered lake during the spring melt. The faults were hidden, abrupt, and fatal. But a lake, at least, would have the decency not to laugh at you as you died.





	stand fast (or fall hard)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadmean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmean/gifts).



> Happy Smutswap cadmean! I'd been eyeballing this prompt for the whole writing period but was so blocked that I figured I wasn't going to get to it. Then we got the opening delay and I figured it was a sign. Hope you like it!

Svir had known from the start that he couldn't play on the same level as Hesychast and Itinerant. It was a weakness beyond Lindon, beyond his blood. It was the knowledge that they were true believers. Svir would never be able to use and discard people at the level of the others, though he didn't have the skills of self-deception required to pretend he was any sort of bleeding heart -- he had made it to cryptarch, after all, and was even quite good at it. Still, he felt guilt, and affection, and all those other human emotions that Hesychast and Itinerant seemed to have left behind in whatever long conquered countries that they had sharpened their teeth on.

He hated them for who they were, of course, for what they had done and the hold they had over him. He hated them for another reason, too, but that was a secret, even, and especially, from himself.

So he approached any meeting with the two of them with the same caution as a snow covered lake during the spring melt. The faults were hidden, abrupt, and fatal. He reflected dourly as he headed to a dinner he very much did not want to attend, that a lake, at least, would have the decency not to laugh at you as you died. Itinerant could not be counted on for the same dignity.

But Itinerant on his own was manageable, as much as any natural disaster could be managed. Svir would always lose a piece or two of his own game, but he could choose which piece. The two of them together had a tendency to lose any malleability. Their hatred of each other turned them to steel.

He was the last in the room. "Sorry I'm late," he said, throwing himself into his chair and completing the triangle (a lie, as if they were all equal). "I didn't want to come."

"As always, your honesty is refreshing," Itinerant said. He began to serve himself, taking a large spoonful of the sweetbread, a choice Svir knew he made more to deny the serving to Hesychast than because he had any particular taste for cow's brains.

Hesychast left his plate empty, tapping his index finger on the glossy surface of the table. "I find I have no appetite. Perhaps," he said, glancing at Itinerant, who met his gaze and communicated something that Svir could not understand, "I have not exercised my body thoroughly enough just yet."

As with all things cryptarch, Svir knew he was not going to like where this was going. The certainty just grew when Itinerant said, "Oh, Cosgrad, must we? Dinner will get cold."

"It can be reheated," Hesychast said, pushing back his chair and standing. "Flesh will out. You know it as well as I, Caird."

"If we must, I suppose," Itinerant said, with no real heat. It seemed as well practiced as their game with the wine. Still, he took a bite of his sweetbread and wiped his mouth before pushing his own chair back. "Take your clothes off, Svir."

"Excuse me?" Svir said, eyebrows rocketing up. Whatever terrible thing he'd thought was about to happen, this wasn't it. "Isn't this one of your crimes? What do sodomites get again?"

Hesychast laughed and began to roll up his sleeves. "Don't flatter yourself, Svir. We don't desire you. We're just teaching you a lesson."

"What lesson is that?" Svir asked, staying stubbornly in his seat, though his posture was certainly tighter than when he'd first thrown himself into it. "That I should prep before dinner?"

"Whatever you can glean will be fine," Itinerant said, coming around the table to pull out Svir's chair for him. From under him. Same difference. "Perhaps you'll learn timeliness."

"Or," said Hesychast, joining him, "how to speak politely. Though I doubt one lesson will be enough for that. You like his mouth more than I do, Cairdine, it's yours."

"I think you'll find," Svir said, so furious, or perhaps so afraid, that the world narrowed before him, until it was no larger than the table, "that it's mine, and it contains teeth."

Itinerant laughed. "And would you like Lindon to be alive, so that you can explain to him how you lost them?"

"Stop fussing and get on your knees, Svir," Hesychast said. "You're an invert anyway, you'll like it."

For all that they seemed about to spitroast him, they seemed barely to notice him, so intent they were on each other. _Ah_ , he thought, _so that's how it is._

It wasn't leverage, but it might be, someday. Svir got on his knees. Hesychast settled behind him, shoving hard between his shoulder blades so he pitched forward onto all fours. Itinerant knelt before him, freeing his cock, still soft but filling with blood. After a moment where Svir thought of just how much it would please him to castrate Itinerant with his teeth and watch him bleed to death, Svir opened his mouth and allowed Itinerant to feed his half-hard cock past his lips.

Hesychast pulled Svir's pants down, and Svir could feel the head of his cock bumping at his hole. _No_ , he thought, tried to say past Itinerant's dick, couldn't. _No, no, not dry, no._ He made a sound, lurching forward to escape, and Itinerant's cock pressed hard against the back of his throat.

"I don't think he likes that," Itinerant said, amusement clear in his voice.

Hesychast made a noise of acknowledgement and, in an act that Svir would grudgingly accept as the most kindness Hesychast and his rotten soul were capable of, spat on Svir's hole before pressing against it once more. He pressed and pressed, and, as all things did eventually, Svir's hole yielded to him. The stretch burned, and the press went on for longer than seemed possible, going deeper and deeper until Svir despaired that Cosgrad Torrinde had the largest cock in Falcrest. Finally, an eternity later, he bottomed out.

Itinerant wrapped a hand around Svir's throat and pressed, just lightly, as he thrust back and forth. Feeling, perhaps, for the pressure of his own cock there. And then, without saying anything to Svir, probably with one of those terrible speaking glances those two were so fond of, they began to move in unison. As one went out the other went in, so that Svir had not a moment to recover. It was like being pounded by the tides, just as intractable, just as ferocious, though not nearly so cold. Sweat dripped down Svir's thighs and forehead, stinging his eyes.

He didn’t want to enjoy it. He didn’t enjoy it, not really. But Hesychast’s giant cock was hitting something deep inside him that sent shocks of pleasure through him and Itinerant’s was cutting off his air enough that the world was fuzzy around the edges, and he was hard, whether he wanted to be or not.

He closed his eyes. He thought of Lindon.

Hesychast reached around and grabbed his cock roughly. “I told you he’d like it.”

Rage washed through him as hot as any pleasure. But when Hesychast pulled roughly, the pleasure was the stronger. He spilled, thinking of revenge.

Svir stared at his hands, clenched on the gray slate floor, and tried to ignore the push and pull of Hesychast and Itinerant through him. It was impossible, but he’d had to do impossible things before as Apparitor.

Was this a competition to them, as all things were? And who would win — the first to come, or the last? Or perhaps they would spill in unison, so that there would be no loss, except for his?

It seemed to be the latter, as both tried to bury themselves deeper in him, cocks twitching as they came. Svir tried to swallow around Itinerant’s cock to keep from suffocating on his spend. That would be entirely too embarrassing a death to stand.

“See?” Hesychast said, sliding out of Svir’s sore ass. “Flesh will out.”

This flesh, thought Svir, sitting back on his heels as soon as Itinerant pulled back, is going to shit on your grave.

“Do come back to the table, Svir,” Itinerant said. “The food’s gone cold, but it’s still good.”

With ill-grace, Svir straightened his clothes and took his seat. He even used his best table manners.


End file.
